The midnight 2

 

The growing crowd and escalating noise prompted someone to call building management, and the small 

mob dispersed. 

Thomas grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron, and pulled me back inside. 

‘Claire, you were just joking, right?” he pressed, his eyes searching mine, desperate. “Those things you said.. you didn’t mean them. I’ve given medicine to neighbors before. You’ve never been like this. I don’t believe yo 

would…” 

His whining grated on my ears. I cut him off, not with words, but with the sharp crack of my palm against hi: 

cheek. 

If your head’s not right, go get it checked,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Don’t come barking at my doo 

And I’ll see you at the courthouse on Monday. Don’t make this any uglier than it has to be.” 

Without another word, I turned and slammed the bedroom door in his face. It was the first time I had eve 

eft him so utterly stripped of his dignity, with no way to save face. 

Even his legendary patience had its limits. I heard him kick the door, a muffled thud of frustration. 

Claire, there’s a line, and you’ve crossed it! This is insane!” he roared from the other side. 

I’m not agreeing to a divorce. So you can forget about it!” 

Then, the sound of the front door slamming shut. 

The violent noise echoed through the apartment, but inside me, there was only silence. A profound, unprec 

edented calm. 

Was it finally ending? 

didn’t waste any time. I packed a small bag with my essentials and started searching for a divorce lawyer 

online. 

I didn’t sleep a wink. As dawn broke, the apartment was empty. Thomas was gone, but on the coffee table sat a bouquet of flowers. 

It was his signature move. For years, every fight we had ended this way. He’d buy me flowers, cook my favor- ite meal, and we’d wordlessly agree to move on. 

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14:41 

But this time was different. This time, I was done. 

I picked up the beautifully wrapped bouquet and noticed something odd. It was supposed to be nine roses, but there were only eight. 

I didn’t have to wonder where the missing one had gone. 

After tossing them in the trash, I headed for the door, but my foot caught on something jutting out from und er the edge of the rug, making me stumble. 

I bent down and picked it up. It was a tube of lipstick-the newest, not-yet-released shade from Dior. My frie nd, a beauty influencer, had been raving about it for weeks. 

My job was conservative; I hadn’t worn a color that bold in years. 

But Jenna, I recalled, loved bright red lipstick. 

Just then, my phone rang. It was one of Thomas’s colleagues from the hospital. 

Claire, you need to get down to the hospital, now,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. 

Thomas’s had some kind of sudden allergic reaction. He’s in bad shape. We need a family member to sigr off on the procedure.” 

His parents lived hours away; they’d never make it in time. 

drove to the hospital. But when I arrived, standing before a crowd of his worried colleagues, I played my 

and. My only one. 

I’ll sign,” I said, my voice clear and steady, “as soon as he signs the divorce papers.” 

The room went silent. Then, it exploded. 

One of our mutual friends, his face contorted in disbelief, called me a heartless bitch. 

Don’t you get it? The only reason he was testing that new trial drug was to get a few extra vacation days approved to take you on that trip! And this is how you repay him? Are you even human?” 

We all see how he worships you,” another chimed in. “Whatever this is about, can’t you just talk it through? 

Why blow everything up like this?” 

‘Pull yourself together, Claire. We heard about last night. Thomas did the right thing. It’s his job to save peop- 

e, and that kid’s life was on the line. You can’t divorce him over something like that!” 

From the hospital bed, Thomas watched me, his eyes filled with a bottomless despair. 

“Claire… I don’t want a divorce,” he rasped, his voice weak. “I’ll be more considerate of your feelings. I promi- 

1. Please… don’t do this.”. 

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Chapter 1 

He struggled to sit up, reaching a trembling hand out to me, his eyes welling with tears. It was a performance that would have melted any heart. 

But I remained rooted to the spot, unmoved, my voice as cold as ice. 

“Sign the divorce agreement and the asset division forms, and I’ll sign the surgical consent.” 

The room erupted again, the insults flying like poisoned darts. 

“You monster! He could die, and all you can think about is money?” 

“It’s true what they say, isn’t it? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Why isn’t it you in that bed?” 

But through the cacophony of their rage, I heard another sound. A small, almost imperceptible noise from behind the partition curtain of Thomas’s cubicle. 

As every eye in the room fixed on me, I strode forward and, with one swift motion, ripped the curtain aside.